Quotes About Contrast

Savages and modern artists are alike strangely driven to create something uglier than themselves. but the artists find it harder.

Realism and art cannot live together.

What one person might see as violent, someone else may see as beautiful. Maybe even art.

In the middle of a perfect tranquillity, it is an art to imagine about the nightmares of storms!

I don't take art as seriously as politics.

I think that's the fascinating thing that exists now. This contrasts with a celebrity art and celebrity music culture.

Why art thou but a nest of gloom While the bobolinks are singing?

Art never comes from happiness

One of the most difficult things to do is to paint darkness which nonetheless has light in it.

If you don't have shadows, you're not in the light.

...how absurd human beings are and how magnificent.

Art is the product of an imperfect world. In a perfect world, art would not exist.

I would like to say to those who think of my pictures as serene, whether in friendship or mere observation, that I have imprisoned the most utter violence in every inch of their surface.

They were both poles apartOne a ready masterpieceAnother an unfinished art...

Having small touches of colour makes it more colourful than having the whole thing in colour

No one plants rosebushes for the thorns.

When you step from the wings onto the stage you go from total blackness to a blinding hot glare. After a moment you adjust, but there is that moment. like being inside lightning.

I've been 40 years discovering that the Queen of all colours is black.

There's a certain attitude to Los Angeles.

His smiles were hard won, but when they came, they were well worth it. They lit up his face like summer sunshine. The rest of the time, and far more frequently, he seemed lost in winter. And when he laughed, he was a different person.

minutes to get home, unlike the morning.

furniture, but all the lights

Christophe was so much better, so trusting and so kind. Sam had a sharp edge to him and saw through her.

this empty act could no more be mistaken for a mother's touch than the wind that fills out some dress on a clothesline might be confused with an actual body.